


Trade Winds

by koalahugs



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anthology, Claudeianne, F/M, MariClaude, Marriage, Mild Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, no betas, no editting, no proof reading, slowburn, what the thing? we die like glen? LOL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalahugs/pseuds/koalahugs
Summary: When Claude ascended to the throne of Almyra, he went into trade negotiations with Margrave Edmund to better the relationship between Fodlan and Almyra. Frequenting visits to Edmund Territory he reconnected with Marianne, now talented in politics, and a wise and brilliant orator. She would often aid her father and Claude. As the pair found themselves often working together, they found themselves falling deeply in love.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Looking

Once in a while he would find himself looking over to her, as she sat at his side. Her eyes never once left the paper in front of her. He remembered when those same eyes were lost, hidden beneath the shadows of bangs, downturned and forlorn. Now, those same eyes gleamed with a newly awakened fervor. Her bangs, still there but cut to reveal more of her face. Lately, she left her hair down, with a single braid intertwining the around the crown of her head. Once known as Marianne von Edmund, survivor of the curse, now Marianne von Riegan, queen of Almyra, but also the conqueror of his heart. Claude found himself getting lost in her features. He loved the way the center of lips always stayed slightly parted as she was lost in concentration, probably immersed in the proposal for trades between Almyran and Brigid spices, proposed by Ignatz and Petra. She found a new fondness for figuring out the puzzles of trades, learning the different approaches he could use to negotiate. She had a knack for words, using them to her advantage, allowing the other party to believe she was neck deep in their idea or proposal only for her to flip it around – them none the wiser. She radiated this newfound confidence daily as she sat at his right hand, or stood by him whenever engaging in trade proposals, peace treaties, and working with the nobility of Almyra.

He marvelled at her persistence, eyes darting left and right before she would place the page down in front of her. Her hands gently smoothing it out, as she grabbed another blank piece of parchment. Her hands moving swiftly, full control over her quill as she wrote her own thoughts. What could she be doing. Weighing out pros and cons? Re-writing a statement? Striking a proposal? He would find out soon. Right now, all that mattered was her. He leaned forward, tilting his head to get a better view of her. Now her lips were mouthing each of the thoughts that she had penned. Was she aware of this habit? He could barely hear the inaudible whispers that she breathed. Still, he found himself getting caught up those small statements she was making to herself. He loved her dedication. Her dedication to making sure the future of Almyra was secure. Her dedication to Almyran values, keeping them at the forefront of her mind at all times. Her willingness to dive into helping him, lending him the tricks she learned from her father. His tutelage shining through. After the war, Marianne had gone back to her father, willing to receive his guidance. He was equally willing to impart his skills onto her. Their relationship flourished, and from it somehow Claude and Marianne happened.


	2. An Unexpected Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude starts the next steps of his dream to bring down the borders of differences and build a bridge between two nations.

Standing before the large manor, Claude braced himself for this visit with Margrave Edmund. A shrewd and honest man, with a mind for business and a heart for politics, the new King of Almyra knew this would be beneficial. Trades and commerce often led to grounds for negotiation diplomacy. Margrave Edmund was famous for making his way up the ladder and landing himself a seat at the counsel table. His innovative ways for commerce and his eloquency, keys to a strong trade. Despite his bold nature, the man was fair and used that fairness to expand trade route within the harbours of Edmund territory, using that savy to optimize the use of ports in Derdriu. Claude remembered standing by his grandfather, the late Duke Reigan, as the Margrave often proposed for utilizing harbours as a means of transportation and exchange rather than harbouring idle warships. Instead, he offered his own personal ports to house war vessels, thus making Derdriu a trade capital and therefore, brining the capital back up the economic ladder. With such an impressive plan, he caught Claudes attention. Now If he could cultivate a good relationship with Margrave Edmund.

Despite the remote location, and otherwise disadvantageous location, Margrave Edmund was able to turn around the land. Having gone from a town of coal mining, he changed the towns into hot spots for merchants, by opening his own ports, receiving merchants both locally and internationally. He even took in merchants from Sreng. This is what initially captivated the lord of the Alliance table. Not even House Gautier had achieved trades with the prideful nation. In doing so, the people of Sreng have maintained a civil relationship with Edmund territory, and thus the rest of what was once the Alliance. Claude tapped his heels against his horse and clicked his tongue, goading him forward. He took a deep breath in as the gates opened and he made his way up the long path leading to the manor.

He was greeted by a kindly coach. Waving off the gesture for help, Claude leapt of his horse and placed the reins in the coach’s hand, before he went forward. Before he reached the door, a servant pulled open the tall – easily 12 feet – door. The servant bowed before mentioning he would call for Master Edmund. He stepped forward, taking in the grand corridor in front of him. Despite his demeanor, Margrave Edmund had impeccable taste. The tall pillars pale, but wrapped in garlands of pine. The walls decorated with oil paintings of various landscapes throughout Fódlan. Gold mouldings lined the pale beige walls. On the two walls adjacent to him, were gran lacquered desks. One had a bust statue of a man unknown to Claude. To each of it’s sides large bouquets of assorted flowers. On the opposite desk rested a mirror, lined with mother of pearl. On the wall in front of him, two sets of stairs wound upwards to lead to a balcony on the second floor. From the hallway that poured into the balcony, Margrave Edmund appeared.

He stretched out his arms, as we gracefully walked down the stairs. “Your majesty!”

“Please, just Claude, will do.” Claude greeted in return. He stretched out his own arms, when the two were within reach, each of their left arms reached out grabbing the other’s forearm, as the right arm reached around the other gentleman, and the pulled one another into an swift embrace.

“Nonsense. Such a privilege at such a young age should not be disrespected.” Margrave Edmund separated from Claude, his right arm now stretched out to his side. “Please, let us enter my salon.”

“My thanks; after you, sir.” Claude bowed. He followed after Margrave Edmund, who made his way to an entrance. The salon was a fairly squared room. One door the lead to another room was lined with garland pine as well. These walls were decorated with oil paintings of still life. Various fruits, flowers and even a tea set. The large window opened to the moor where Claude entered. The gold damask curtains that were pulled apart and held, tied by a copper cord. A small round table was in the center of the room. In the middle of it, were several small pots. Margrave Edmund motioned to two servants, who were waiting on either side of the entrance. One darted forward, towards a rather large bar, the top cabinets housing various fine porcelain. She reached up and placed two saucers, two teacups and a single teapot on a tray. She opened the draws and pulled out two small silver teaspoons. She grabbed the tray and made her way to the table. The other servant dusted off the table and wiped it down with the cloth on his arm. He dumped the clothe in a basket that was beside the closed door. Beside the basket, a small drawer. He rummaged through before returning with a white cloth in hand. As he reached the table he puffed the clothe open, letting the sheet fall onto the table. Almost like a choreographed dance, he smoothed the table out, just as the girl arrived and set the tray down. She quickly placed the teacup, saucer and teaspoon on either side of the table, as the man pulled the chair to side, waving a hand over it.

“Please, have a seat.” Claude bowed in appreciation to the Margrave, then nodded his gratitude to the servant before taking a seat. As he shuffled in his seat, the servant did the same for the margrave. “Anything in particular you enjoy?”

“I have a specific taste for Almyran Pine needles, but I’m sure you have a variety.”

“Indeed. My daughter’s favourite is lavender. Shall we try that?” The margrave turned the lady servant. “Cecile, lavender. Bring a sprig of vanilla and a cinnamon stick as well, please.”

Cecile bowed before she made her way to the door by the basket. Claude Assumed this was the kitchen. The other servant placed cloth napkins to their right hand, then he bowed and excused himself. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Claude chuckled. “I’ll skip over the niceties and go straight into it. I have big plans for Almyra. It’s a known fact Fódlan is still not accustomed to Almyrans – fair, given our long history.”

The girl returned, setting a jar of vanilla bean, a jar of cinnamon and a coaster between the two men. The gentleman servant came behind her, setting a bot teapot on the coaster. The two bowed and excused themselves. “I want to see our nations unite. I have a dream to tear down these walls that separate us.”

“You mean to merge the continents?”

“Not so lofty. But to unite peoples, make borders pleasant rather than frightening. I know one way to do that is with merchants.”

The Margrave poured tea into both his and Claude’s cup. “You wish for me to share my secrets with you.” A statement, not a question. Claude thanked him, then leaned forward; a smile painted on his face. This would become a match of the minds. “With all due respect, what would I benefit from teaching you my secrets?”

“A secret paid is a secret received, good sir.”

Margrave nodded as he chuckled. He blew on his tea, Claude could see the steam roll away from his pursed lips. He took a sip, before placing the cup on the saucer once more. Claude leaned back into his chair, taking a vanilla bean and splitting it. He scraped at the insides pushing a little less than half into his cup. He stirred it for a moment, before he pulled spoon out and tapped it onto the rim, letting the excess drop into the cup. Placing the spoon on the saucer, he picked the teacup up and brought it to his lips. He could feel the heat and steam press onto his lips and chin, he blew at it as well, before taking his own sip. “How would I guarantee this secret remains between you and I?”

Claude took another sip before setting the tea cup down. Lavender with a bit of vanilla was quite soothing. He nodded in response. “I agree, it would be a risk. But what benefit would I have spilling your trade secrets?”

The margrave nodded as he pursed his lips, which quickly flipped into a smile. Very well, let’s say I give you some of my tools for trade. What would you pay back for me?”

Claude propped his elbows on his knees and intertwined his hands together in front of lips. He knew it would come to this. “What is your price?”

“Money is fine tender, but it is not worth the cost of knowledge.”

Wise. He figured no amount of bronze and gold would sway the Margrave. He doubted any material good would loosen the Margrave’s lips. Not the lapis lazuli, not the alabaster, obsidian. He stared down the Margrave, who continued sipping at his tea. The ball was in his court and Claude was ready take it back, but he had to play his cards right or he may reveal his plays too early. “What did you ask from the people of Sreng?”

“The people of Sreng are a type who would fight for valour. Almyrans pose no threat. At least that I am aware. Peace is not a gamble that you’re willing to take, and it is bait I am not going to bite.”

Claude chuckled, and shook his head. The margrave was confident. But this confidence was not misplaced. Claude did not plan on attacking Fódlan, not when his goal was peace. Looks like the ball was still in Edmund territory. Looks like one of his pawns was swallowed. “Too true. I can give you access to our ports.”

The Margrave’s eyes flicked up. A pawn moved forward. Claude was already prepared to do this dance, and though the Margrave was ahead a few points, they were points Claude sacrificed. He knew the Margrave made his business with ports and ships. Water travel was something of an Almyran expertise. Other than Wyvern riding and horse riding, water travel was something Almyran had prowess in. A prowess the Margrave built his empire on. A prowess Claude would now capitalize on. He sucked in a breath. Keep calm, he thinks to himself. Don’t make too many bold jumps, lest you lose more pieces. He sits up straight now, reaching for the teapot, refilling the Margrave’s cup. The man nods his thanks.

“Your ports, hm? Well, that is certainly… intriguing.” He takes a sip of the freshly poured tea. Intriguing, indeed. Your majesty, I-“

He was interrupted by the moan of the main doors opening. A servant’s voice echoes from the main corridor into the salon. “Miss! How was your ride?”

“Fine, thank you.” A familiar voice rings after. “Where is my father?”

“Entertaining a guest, miss.”

“A guest?”

“In the salon, Marianne.” The Margrave calls for her.

Claude turns his head to salon’s open doorway. Before him he sees his blue-haired classmate. Her hair still in signature braid, with a smaller braid crowning the top of her head. She’s taking deep breaths, as she enters. She’s wearing blue, as usual. Claude could not judge, despite his return to Almyra he still donned his yellow cape that hung from the gold pauldron on his shoulder. Marianne’s dress was slightly more flowy than the one she wore back in the days of war. Its pale blue wisped around her feet, like waves of an ocean. On her shoulders rested a darker blue shawl, with intricate designs laced on the hem. She stood before the two of them and curtsied. “Father,” she greets. “Claude.”

On cue, Claude stands, and bows in traditional Officer’s Academy fashion. On hand folded in front of his waist, the other folded behind his back and a straight 45-defree angle bow. “Marianne. How lovely to see you.”

“You as well, Claude. My apologies for interrupting. I did not know you would be here. I’d have changed into something more respectable.”

Claude places a hand on his hip and laughs. “This is plenty acceptable. Elegant, but simple. It suits you.”

“Marianne, Claude is here to discuss trade.”

“Whatever for?”

“Wouldn’t you agree trade is the path on which peace walks?”

Marianne folds on arm in front of her, cupping the other arm’s elbow. She brings her free hand up to touch her cheek. “Wouldn’t a visit to the professor be a better means to establish peace.”

Claude raises up his hands in front of him as he laughs. He brings one back to his hip and leans his weight onto that same leg. He had not known Marianne to be so bold. In fact, he would not have expected her to even come before them. She had changed in their days at war, but he did not think she had changed this much. The Marianne he knew in their academy days was elusive, self-deprecating. During war, she was courageous and valiant. This Marianne, well, this Marianne exudes confidence. She carries herself with a newfound radiance and she wears it well. She doesn’t seem to be cocky, she’s still humble, but there is something about her. Something new. “You’re not wrong, but peace is better built on strong foundations, then the word of two rulers.”

She nods in response. “I see. If you are busy, I shall excuse myself.” She bows before she turns around back into the corridor and up the stairs. Claude’s eyes follow her until she is out of site. He takes his seat once again and pulls his chair in.

“If she did not look so much like her, I would not think that to be Marianne.”

“Pardon me, your majesty. I had forgotten you were once classmates.”

“It seems so long ago,” Claude agreed. It has been two years since the end of the great war, seven since the beginning. Meaning it would be almost a whole decade since he’s known Marianne. He would not think someone could change so much in two years. He wondered if he had changed in her eyes. Was he still the jerk who harassed her for answers on a past she wished to escape? Was he vivid dreamer, promising of a new world where differences were set aside? Her bangs had grown out again, but they no longer cover her face. Instead the sweep off to the side. Her cheeks had a healthy, rosy glow to them. The timid down turned brows now no longer down-turned. He wondered what he looked like to her. He turned back to look at the Margrave. “Now, where were you, Margrave?”

“The proposal to opening ports is interesting, but if I send merchants to Almyran ports, I doubt I would receive any enthusiastic volunteers. But, if I were to put guards on the boats, would they be welcomed to Almyran borders?” He asks. It’s a good point. “You see the dilemma we face?”

Claude places his hands behind his head and tilts his head to rest it on one of his biceps. “A dilemma indeed.” He pauses. “I will deliberate with my Viziers and send a request to Lords. Those who are willing to welcome armed boats with open arms, are the ones you can send your ships to.”

“If none step up?”

“Then that is for me figure out.” Claude takes the cup and drinks the rest of his tea. “For now, Thank you for your hospitality.” Margrave Edmund nods his head and waves his hand out, excusing the young king. Claude bows and makes his leave. He has much to deliberate when he returns home. But the dance has begun and pieces are in place. He knows this game well. Sometimes you have to losses to achieve gain. Before he completely exits the main door a voice calls to him again.

“Leaving so soon?” Marianne approaches him. She’s changed. She’s wearing a thicker dress now. The shawl swapped out for a pea coat, buttoned only to her chest, exposing the neck of the dress. The turtle neck cradles her neck and a small black ribbon is tied around. Comes to stand next to him.

“Unfortunately. It seems I have a lot to do.”

“Well, the road to peace won’t be forged in a day.” She said as she walked past him. “Are you riding?”

He nods as the coach comes with two stallions. His white stallion, and a grey one. “No way. Is that Dorte?”

“Did you believe I would leave him at the monastery? Of course I brought him. But no, this is not Dorte. This is his son, Ragnvaldr.”

“Grand name. Of course, knowing his father, he deserves it.”

Marianne laughs. It has been so long since he heard her laugh, and what a sweet laugh it is. He cannot help but laugh himself. Despite the unexpected nature of the reunion, it is still nice to see an old friend again. A friend who knew him and cared for him despite his differences. A friend who cared for him before his title. “You’re still very much the same. But you’re not are you.”

“I couldn’t say. Just like I can’t say the same for you.”

Marianne lets another soft laugh escape her lips as she looks to the two horses. “Life is… better now. May I accompany on a part of you journey? At least to Edmund borders?”

“You know, I would be delighted.”


End file.
